Time For Some Puddin'
by thunderbellyemm
Summary: Six months after being stuck in the nut-house, the Joker still manages to poison the mind of Harleen Quinzel, his beautiful psychiatrist. -- The story of how the insane, intense, and absolutely sick-and-twisted couple fell madly in love! Harley//Joker
1. What an Animal

**TIME FOR SOME PUDDIN'**

WHAT AN ANIMAL

**I.**

Arkham Asylum, the big cheese--top of the line--five story--tow ward--squeaky clean and oh so hospitable crazy house! So, where on earth would they care to build such a lovely little establishment? None other than Gotham City herself, sweet-cheeks.

Arkham is the only one of her kind in the world, holding some--and most--of Gotham's most wanted, most evil and definitely most insane criminals. Because of Arkham's 'high society' guests, they of course could not risk the possibilities of, erm, _'early checkouts'_--now having a fully armed school's worth of guards scowering the entire building, a minimum of at least ten on each floor.

Precisely at 8:00 AM, 4:00 PM and 12:00 AM, all the Docs would come around giving each patient their daily eight-hour dose of antibiotics, then leave them alone in their euphoric state, only retrieving them twice during the day to mingle in the cafeteria with their fellow crazies--11:00 AM and 6:00. Breakfast was served in their rooms. Well, at least, that is if you weren't in the_ maximum security _ward. Top floor of Arkham with a beautiful count of twenty armed guards(two per room) and a lovely lake and court-side view--the penthouse sweats.

The Joker giggled at the thought. Nothing like a bit of optimism to get your day rolling.

It had been now exactly 180 days, 14 hours, 28 minutes and _36, 37, 38, 39... _seconds--_43, 44,45_--since he had become a resident at Arkham... _49, 50, 51_... Any-ways, after dear old _Batsy-Bat _had caught him in the act six months ago, Joker was immediately deported here to Arkham where within the first ten minutes of walking through the front doors, was strapped into a straight jacket. It was quite amusing! He laughed the entire time--or at least, after the first five minutes when he had managed to grab hold of one of the nurses name tags and shoved it right into one her pretty little eyes.

Today was a special day for him, a very special day indeed--today was the day he was going to get doctor lucky number thirteen.

Five of the twelve were smart enough to quit on their own. The other six left for... _various_ reasons; pen to the throat, paper-clip-gash across the face, death by medicine bottle... nothing _too_ horrible.

Oh but today, oh yes, today was gonna be a _hoot_! (Really, you'd think that after everything he had already done they'd consider something a little more than leg and arm restraints.)

He giggled once again, a happy little hum escaping his grinning lips right along with his _he,he,hes_ and _ha,ha,haws._

_Any second now, any second-_

There was a loud 'click', the sound of scraping metal filling the small room. Three shadows moved behind the tow-way glass. The door opened and in came Doctor number thirteen.

"Well hell-o beautiful," he grumbled huskily as she walked in. He licked his lips like a hungry dog getting ready for his meal.

She looked to be about 5'7 in height with light blonde hair that was pulled back into a tight bun. She wore the usual white lab coat and white dress shirt but with the exception of a shorter-than-usual skirt that was hiked up just high enough so that the Joker could get a nice view of the long thin pair of legs slipping out from underneath the tight black material.

Her florescent blue eyes bore into his as she made her way over to her seat.

"To what do I owe the pleasure..." He paused, pursing his lips together and eyes falling to her name tag. "...Dr _Quinzel_."

She said nothing, only giving him uninterested look over the rim of her glasses.

Her eyes returned to gaze at her clipboard. She began writing.

"Do you know why I'm here, Mr. J?"

His eyes snapped up to her face, a cynical grin spreading across his own. It felt as if something had snapped inside of him hearing her soft voice call out his name like _that_. The metal chair he was placed in began to rattle as he restlessly squirmed around. It was going to be fun killing her.

"Mr. J, ooo, I like the sound of that," he grinned, "Say it again, would ya?"

She sighed and placed her clipboard into her lap, pen between her thin fingers as she rested her chin into it.

"You have a very serious problem." Dr Quin said mater-o-factly.

Joker only let out a small chuckle, "Glad you noticed baby-doll."

She blinked.

"So tell me," Dr Quinzel started again, going back to her clipboard, "how are you reacting to your new medications... any dizziness, nausea, vomiting, indigestion, upset stomach, inability to sleep at night, unusual urinating cycles?"

He raised his hands as far and the chains would permit him and wriggled his fingers, displaying a proud smile, "Yay Peopto-Bismol!"

She gave him another _look_. Today was going to be a fun one after all!

"Heh--uh... no,no,no,no, no, no and no, _Doc_... I find myself pleasantly..." he smacked his lips together, "...in respite."

She cocked a brow, "Respite? Frankly, I'm surprised that you can even sit up with the extreme doses that you've been taking."

Joker grinned, "What can I say, I'm a growing boy."

He cocked his head to the side in amusement as he watch the doctor allow herself the pleasure of one small smile. "That you are indeed."

_That I am indeed..._

"Mr. J," She brought her head back up again although her eyes did not fall back into his gaze but this time, at his mangled face. At Arkham, they did not permit him the use of his makeup, leaving his gruesome scars in plain view to all who dared look--and she was staring... Nothing made him more angry then people who stared, he hated people who stared. Especially when she was gawking like a stupid little doe-eyed school girl who had just seen a penis for the first time. He frowned

It made him fidget in his seat.

This was making him _real_ angry... and in a real good mood for another story telling.

_That was it!_

He'd gouge her eyes out with her pen! Teach her that staring was damn impolite!

"Enjoying' the show, Doc?"

Oh wait, not a pen... he had already used that one... what were the chances of beating someone to death with a plastic clipboard in about twenty seconds and with a good six inch reach?

She immediately averted her gaze and looked back down at her papers, furiously scribbling away. _Scribble-scribble-scribbling._

"N-n-n-no--don-don't doon't look away," he moved around so that he could once again catch her eyes.

"You wanna know--hey! Over here!" he snapped his fingers. "Hellooo..."

Sharply, she took in a deep breath and straightened herself up, her face snapping back to his. She looked almost angry. The feisty little thing.

"Well that's better,"

Nah, the clipboard wouldn't work. He'd probably get a nice good four lethal swings before the calvary came _charging_ in with their tranquilizer darts. Hm... that was not going to work today. He could always wrap the chains holding his wrists down around her pretty little neck and squeeze the life out of her so tighty-tight--or maybe even take the ends of her glasses and stick those into her eyes!

He studied her face again.

"Would I like to know what exactly, Mr. J." Dr. Quinzel asked through clenched teeth. She bit down onto her bottom lip.

Oooooo... even better!

Why bother undergoing the painful tortures of a premeditated murder? It's not like she was the Batman or anything! Today, oh yes, today was definitely a _'happy'_ day.

"Oh--hm, yes." He cleared his throat. "Wanna know hows I got these here _scars_?"

Her face softened. She readied her pen for notes and said nothing.

"Here," he coughed again, "Just ask me--with that funny little name you call me--say it--'_Mr J, how d'you get those scars?'" _When he finished, he gave a satisfied nod.

Dr. Quinzel still said nothing and just sat there, a puzzled and questioning look on her face. Could she see his true intentions already? Ooo-hoo, fun-fun-fun!--Not that it mattered any-ways. Between the five seconds in reaction time to the stunt and the other twenty seconds it would take to unlock those massive steal doors, he had more than enough time to have a little fun.

"Say it," he urged once again, "Come on-- you're my therapist! Don't ya wanna know all this stuff? All the juicy details leading to my present _insanity_?"

The clear twist of sarcasm laced into his words complemented the smug look on his face.

She opened her mouth slightly, debating.

"Ok," She finally let out, leaning forward over the table. "Tell me, Mr. J, how was it that you managed to obtain those scars?"

He also leaned forward then--excitement and anticipation rushing through his veins--until their faces were only inches apart. Dr. Quinzel placed both hands under her chin, ready to hear the full story of his tragic disfigurements.

He smacked his lips together.

"Well there was this girl I used to know, she was _real_ pretty just like you." He chuckled. "Any-ways, we used to meet up all the time for lunch--to talk. So, one day, while we were out on one of our... _meetings_... I was feeling a bit more down then usual, complaining about the usual stuff when-" His voice began to speed up, eyes growing with the excitement of the tale,"she got _real_ angry with me--I mean, she exploded!--and she was so angry, that she grabbed this old glass bottle off of the side of the road and broke it over the hood of my car and turned to me--carving up my face nice and good like this, see," He made a circular motion over his mouth with one of his hands. Joker paused looking straight into her giant blue eyes.

_A little closer..._

"And when she was all finished, guess what she said to me," He dipped his chin forward.

"What?" She whispered, leaning closer, captivated by him.

_Now._ He pounced.

Joker Launched himself as far across the table as his restraints permitted him and grasped into his mouth a massive chunk her silk-like blonde hair. He jerked, pulling himself along with the shrieking doctor back into his chair as she too flew up and out of her's, so that she was now laying face-down on the cool metal table.

Grabbing her face in both of his hands, he let voice to a horrible laugh and then without warning, crushed his lips down onto her's. He did it with such force, that she shot back in pain only to find that she couldn't break free of his iron like hold which was now wrapped tightly around the back of her head and into her hair.

Like a hungry animal, the Joker barked into her mouth, this rough chapped lips devouring her smooth pink ones as he forced her mouth open with his wet, eager tongue.

To is absolute surprise--really, he was actually surprised!--she began kissing him back, pushing her tongue right back into his mouth with outstanding force.

He bit down hard onto her bottom lip.

Blood rushed from the wound and into his mouth, smearing his mouth with the red liquid. She shrieked again in pain and out of reflex, reached up toward his neck and sliced at it mercilessly. Her long nails dug into the side of his neck and dragged down leaving two nice long scratches.

He threw his head back breaking the kiss and let out a howl, like a wolf. "I like 'em feisty!"

At that moment, the metal door leading out into the hallway burst open, an array of guards bursting into the room. They all yelled. The Joker only began to laugh uncontrollably, throwing his head back toward the ceiling.

_"Now! Now!"_

_"Get her away from him!"_

_"Shoot!"_

Mid howl, he stopped and jerked back into his seat. The sharp prick of tranquilizer darts shot up his neck. His grip loosened on the Dr's hair and immediately, she was ripped away from his grasp. The room began to spin, everything going blurry as his laugh faded to a soft chuckle.

That's when their eyes met--her terrified eyes, gazing at him with utter confusion, fear, sadness and...

Joker struggled to keep his eyes open, the power of the drugs that now shot through his veins slowly taking him over. He watched as Dr. Quinzel stood in a mess at the end of the room, a guard forcefully pulling her through the massive double doors as more like him rushed inside. Her perfect bun was now hanging down her back, strands of hair flying every which-way and down into her face. Then there, le piece de resistance, a beautifully painted streak of her ruby red blood smeared right across her rosy cheeks in the form of a cheerful, mirthful, sinister smile.

_"Why so serious Dr. Quinzel?!"_

He broke out into another uncontrollable riot of horrifying laughs that was far worse than the first, beating ferociously against his restraints.

There was another sharp sting.

**Backness.**

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I'm so excited! I've wanted to do a Joker/Harley for the longest time but could never decide weather it should be a Heath-Joker/Harley or an Joker-Joker/Harley because when you really look at it, they're almost two completely different characters! Finally I decided that I should do a Heath because... well I really couldn't picture Heath with a Harley... or really, I couldn't picture their relationship with each other and all that jazz. It wouldn't be the same fun-loving ha-ha-he-he love fest like in Mad Love. Nooooo.... much darker, much kinkier, much sexier(note: the rating) and just all around a completely different relationship. So yeah, in the future I see possible sex scenes. HAHA! This will be fun!

Don't forget to review!! XD


	2. Unexpected

**TIME FOR SOME PUDDIN'**

UNEXPECTED

**II.**

"Absolutely not!" Dr Harleen Quinzel yelled at the top of her lungs at the larger black woman across from her.

After the Joker's little--ok, little is an understatement--after his _smaller than usual _outburst, the stunned doctor was pulled down into the staff room on the third floor where her lower lip was examined for any serious damage. Luckily, he had only manage to break the skin on both sides leaving a small two-centimeter long cut on the inside and outside on her mouth, just below her lip.

Then they told her that it was better off that she stopped seeing him. She was _pissed._

"Just because he managed to get me at a weak point _once_ dose _not _mean that I am incapable of going right back and trying again!" She boomed.

Joan, her co-worker, supervisor and superior sat at the small dining table, arms crossed with an angry and concerned look on her face.

"Harleen, you need to understand that that man in there is _very_ dangerous and a clinically insane-"

"Well isn't that what I'm supposed to be doing here? _Making_ him sane, Joan? That _is_ after all my job if you haven't noticed."

"Well of course Har-" "Dammit Joan, can't ya see that 'e needs my help?! I just wanna-"

She clipped her words off mid sentence and took hold of the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes tightly. She took in a deep breath.

_In English Harley..._

Her other hand snaked up to her face and she rubbed at her eyes in frustration.

This was not going well, and _especially_ for her first big job. She couldn't afford loosing a chance--or a patient--like the Joker. He was--as most would call him--a psychiatrist's wet dream. To even be in the same room as a mind so absolutely twisted and sick and... she fought back the urge to moan.

_No. _ There was no way she could miss out on an opportunity like this to pass her by.

"Please Joan," She sighed.

She pulled out the chair in front of her and slid herself into it.

She leaned in over the table and put on her best sad face--equip with giant pupp-dog eyes and pouting lip. It hurt like hell, but it was worth it because for this chance, this once in a lifetime chance... Harley would resort to crying, begging and pleading just to be _able_ to speak with that man.

She lowered her voice to a pleading whisper, "You know how much this means to me... I've worked so hard for this!"

She pressed the lip, small shoots of pain spreading down her chin and across her face.

_Please God..._

Joan stared at her. Hours seemed to pass by as the long silence passed between the two.

Harley ground her teeth together.

"Please Joan, I am _begging_ you..."

_Come on already!_

"Fine!" Joan finally snapped, throwing her hands into the air.

Harley threw her arms up into the air and let out a cry of happiness. She launched herself out of her seat and grasped her boss' hands tightly in hers.

She shook it madly and shrieked, "Thank you so much! You won't regret this I promise you!"

"Ok, ok already!" The other woman yelled out, a small tone of laughter in her voice.

She waved Harley off and got up out of her seat, making her way towards the coffee machine.

"You don't know what this means to me, Joan, thank you!"

She pulled a tall red mug from one of the cupboards and pushed it roughly under the machine's spout, a smile on her face. She pushed her finger down onto the start button. A quiet rumble rang out through the room.

"Yeah, yeah enough! Tell me that once you've won number one bestseller for your book on that monster, girl--now go home _Dr Quinzel_ and take care of that lip of your's because tomorrow you have another two hour session with him!"

---

As soon Harley finished cleaning up, she quickly gathered up all her things for the night and made her way down to the first floor.

What Joan had said before, about her book on the Joker, that was the entire reason she was even in Gotham now. Her initial plan after graduating from University was to check herself into the nice little syc ward off near Metropoulos as a psychiatrist. That is.. until news of the raving sycophant addicted to chaos named the Joker spread like wild fire across America.

The first time she saw his face light up her television screen was just after he had been caught. Harley was about mid-way thought to completing her resume for her dream hospital in Kansas when suddenly, seeing him, she knew exactly where she was going to go. Screw this, the Joker was her key to success!

The very next week, she caught a plane out to Gotham where her new apartment (equip with her new car, new furniture and old belongings) were already ready and waiting for her. One month after that, she began working at The Arkham asylum where for the mean time, she took to evaluating small common cases of Bipolarism.

Finally, after five long months waiting for even the smallest chance of getting to the Joker, Harley was given the opportunity with an him by her supervisor Joan. Nobody else wanted him after he had murdered his last psychiatrist with nothing but a pill bottle.

_It was amazing! _

And when Harley had seen the body... Just picture, nothing but an orange bottle made of cheap plastic the size of her fist shoved a good four inches right down into the man's chest and directly into his heart.

She shuddered.

There was something about him, the Joker, she didn't know it yet, but after how he had made a fool of her today, there sure as hell was going to be something there tomorrow once she got her hands on him.

_Now to get home and have a good sleep-_

"Dr Quinzel!"

Harley turned.

"Please, just call me Harley-" She paused, realizing who it was.

She put on her best smile.

"Oh, Dr Roice, it's you,"

A tall handsome man with sand colored curly hair came toward her, a worried look on his face.

"Are you ok? I heard what happened and boy, you're a mess! Did he--_Jesus!_ Look at that cut under your lip! Did he do that?"

All his questions shot out to her in a massive wave. She couldn't help but feel taken back.

She stifled a laugh.

"Ken," She said, placing a hand on the man's arm, "I'm fine, really. Nothing happened, just a little accident."

"Are you sure because you know Harley," His voice dropped suddenly, taking in a husky tone. He pulled her close to him, a bit too close. "I can make it all better for you."

Alrite, enough was _enough._

Ducking through his arms, she broke free from his hold and rapidly stepped back towards the main entrance.

"Sorry Ken, not tonight. After the little ordeal I went through today, I'm really tiered and I have stuff to do-"

"Not even dinner? I mean I get off about thirty minutes, we could always-"

Harley was already out the front doors and practically running towards her small red car.

"Sorry!" She called back waving.

She looked back, he only stood there holding one of his hands up in a half wave. He smiled, looking disappointed.

God, she thought getting into her car.

She stuck the key into the ignition, turned it on and pulled out of the parking lot.

For months now this had been going on! Dr Ken Roice, the supervisor of the staff on the second floor continuously antagonized her, flirted with her and took every chance that he could to make her job five times harder than it was by stalking her down to ask her out to movies, plays, dinner--you name it and he just _'happened'_ to have one extra ticket and/or seat with her name on it.

It was _horrible._

Don't get her wrong, Roice was actually a very, very attractive man. Seductive green eyes, blonde curly hair, rich, smart--he was quite the catch! But certainly not her's, seeing as how she would have to share his bed with half the female population in Gotham. Harley was a jealous woman and for a jealous woman like her, a relationship with Ken Roice had a very small chance working out. Heck, he was almost as bad a Bruce Wayne and that was saying something!

Oh no, Roice was definitely_ not _the one for her, and like all the men she had in her life, just didn't fit the part.

Harley did feel a bit bad although for having to give him the brush off when he really did seem worried... well no actually, she really didn't. It saved her after all from having to deal with torturous dates with men like Roice, only to awake in the morning to an empty bed and a _"Don't call me, I'll call you" _note left on his pillow beside her.

But then again, she hadn't had sex in a few months... maybe Roice would be a good release...

She pulled into the small parking lot beside her building.

_Nah._

---

"Home sweet home!"

Harley collapsed like a sack of bricks onto her couch. She kicked her shoes off of her feet and took off her glasses, leaning her head back against the wall.

"What ch'a gonna do with yourself Harley..." She said, her naturaly thick Brooklyn accent coming out.

That was the first thing to go when she had decided to come into this profession. So, while in University, she practiced perfecting her all American accent each day during and after classes until finally, one day, it just became second nature. Only now when she was alone did she permit herself to use it.

Grunting, she forced herself off of the couch and sluggishly wandered through her small apartment towards the bathroom.

She flicked the light on.

"Holey crap..."

There in the mirror above her sink was quite the beautiful girl staring back at her. Harley's hair, that had been viciously pulled at by the Joker, was now strewn out in some odd looking pony-tail/messy half-bun down her back. Her lips seemed to be a light shade of purple, bruised by the hash and rough kisses that he had inflicted upon her. There was still a large smear of lipstick on her chin.

Tentively, she reached up towards her swollen lips and lightly stroked her fingers across her mouth. She traced the outline of her lips, a trail of tingles running behind each caress.

_That kiss._

She hadn't thought about it the whole night since it had happened.

How stupid could she have been to fall for one of his tricks and to openly let herself be taken by that man! She had sworn to herself that something as stupid as that wouldn't happen! But talking to him like that... The way he smacked his lips together or how he would make silly little gestures to almost every word he spoke--every single thing he did... she couldn't help but be hypnotized.

Harley fingered the cut. It still hurt.

That was the worst part about it. She _knew_ not to listen to his shit about his scars.

Harley had spent countless nights before their first sitting reading over the dozens of files on how exactly Joker had gotten his signature grin. In total, here were at least forty stories, each completely different from the last.

Harley reached her other hand up toward her face and stuck both her index fingers into the sides of her mouth. She pulled it out into a devilish grin.

Not to mention the fact that she had even _kissed him back_! Harley didn't even know where _that _came from. She stuck--no--_shoved_ her tongue into his mouth and to top it all off, actually _enjoyed it_.

She sighed.

The cut on the inside of her mouth suddenly re-opened, the oh-too familiar metallic taste filling her mouth. She let go then licked her lips, lapping up all the blood.

_Well f'a now, one thing is f'uh sure..._

She pulled her hair out of it's mess and began undressing herself.

_That Joker is a damn good kisser._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** God I love March break! I have so much time to write XD

Any-whoo, I laid in bed all night thinking about Harley's and Joker's relationship with each other and kinda came to a wall... with the old Joker--although more fun and less dark--was extremely abusive to Harley--like--INSANE. Even in the cartoons, it was incredibly dark(no joke, like I'm talking hard core beatings here). With Heath J and Harley... I'm not sure... I don't see that whole "Ugh! Get away from me you filthy whore! You're so annoying!"-kind of vibe. It's more of a need you know... like this crazy want for each other that they have...

I did a bunch of homework before taking on a Joker/Harley fic and went around reading a whole bunch of my old comics and also, came online and went to at least 5 different fan sites for the couple to get a feel of each pair until I decided that this was the way I was going to direct their relationship in terms of how they acted to each other(carry-on sentence! whoo!). I mean, if it came down to Heath J's get-away and Harley's life, she's as good as dead really, that will prolly never change... but for the most part of it???? Hm... well we'll just have to see!


	3. My Assumptions

**TIME FOR SOME PUDDIN'**

MY ASSUMPTIONS

**III.**

**SHOUT OUTS:** Holy crap!! Wow! Thank you all so much for all the positive reviews and man--I cant get over how many I've got in--I don't know--I think the five-six days it's been out? AWESOME! True, there really aren't that many, but I'm just really happy because all my other stories got this many in a span of like... 3 months! But then again, I've never really tried writing for a couple as popular as Joker/Harley :P:P So thank you again! KISSES AND HUGS!!

Here are some reviews that I thought I should share my answers to because they more of an all around kind of thing...

**TO Lorelai Kline:** What I mean by saying that Joker would rather have Harley die opposed to getting caught by the Batman was that he--no matter who--is still going to be an all for one and one for me kind of guy :P True he would have this small nagging attachment that he of course never admit too, but he's still the Joker. So yeah, I can see where your coming from and I get it--but this is how I'm somewhat perceiving it for the moment. Any questions, just message :)

**TO Breaking Emotions:** Sorry about that :P This is my first Beta-Less story so I'm just kinda trying to scrape it all up and do my best with the whole thing:P Just me and my spellcheck! I wanted to give her a break 'cause I've ben bugging her for a good year now for all my 28 Days Later stuff and just wanna lay off it :P

_THANKS AGAIN! ENJOY!_

---

"Ok, time to get up Chuckles," A deep voice said, coming through the intercom of the Joker's room.

Jumping up out of his bed, Joker straightened himself up and strutted over to the small foot by foot plastic mirror that was screwed to one of the painted white walls of his cell. He leaned in close and put on a smile to check his teeth.

He sucked on them and gave them a good once-over with his tongue.

"Good morning to you too _Joe_,"

He stroked back his hair, running his fingers through his light green locks and pulled out the knots. He really was doing his best to make himself look... somewhat presentable. After all, today was his second session with--Hello!--_Dr Quinzel_.

He growled deep in his throat.

Yesterday had been their first session and lucky-lucky, he had made it through a whole fifteen minutes without killing her! Always time for a first right? He of course got the usual lecture, his medications update, a chance to tell another one of his fun stories, a little kissy-kissy followed up by some blood, bitting, yadda-yadda... it had gone well... really!

Today was going to be even more fun!

"Ok," Joe's voice came again, "well we're comein' in now, so don't you try anything funny... you remember what happened last time, right?"

Joker slumped down onto his bed and waved his hand at the door, grunting.

"Yeah, yeah... two weeks in a vest, I know..."

Two months after being here at Arkham, he had managed to steal one of the plastic spoons at dinner from a fellow wack-job and hid it in the crotch of his pants behind... well you get the picture. The next day when his usual guards came in to take him to his weekly therapy session with #5, he was able to stab one, creating a diversion and booting it out of his cell faster than you can say Mississippi. He got a good two bounds into the hallway and boom, out like a light. When he woke up an good twelve hours later, he was strapped up in a straightjacket and in a big fluffy room. That joke got old real fast.

There was a loud click and the door opened.

Four armed guards walked in accompanied by Joe--the large African American with a thick handle-bar stache-- and a new guy. He was tall, thin... a bit of muscle but not much. Kinda looked like... The Joker glanced down to his name tag. It read Roger. A _giraffe._

The Joker smiled, hands raising beside his head to show that he defiantly was not going to try anything 'funny' today. No Sir-y!

Joe motioned for him to hold his arms out and he did, grinning as usual. They slipped his jacket on and did it up, making him hug himself nice and big then buckling it all in behind him.

"Hi Roger," He said teasingly, starring down the _neeewwwb._

The boy only gave him a quick worried glance but continued his work.

"Aw come on, don't ya wanna talk to me?"

He could tell by the way the young man started figiting that he was already very uncomfortable and on-edge. It was sad these days how easy it was to rattle someone. Sad, really.

"Come on now Chuckles, leave the poor kid alone. It's his first day here," Joe said and finished locking the last ankle restraint, "You don't want him quitting after the first two hours of working' talking' to _you_."

Joker chuckled.

"Oh no!" He grumbled, mimicking Joe's tone, "We don't want that now, do we!"

He smirked evilly at the poor boy. "Eh, _Roger_?"

Suddenly, his cell door opened again something else coming through the door... something Joker had never seen before.

"Here we go," Joe said walking over to the contraption.

The thing looked like some type of giant, white, steal dolly. In total it was taller than him by a good foot and had some type of funky looking stand poking out the back. Hanging off it sides were--you guessed it! More buckles.

He pursed his lips together and blew air into his mouth.

"A new toy? I _love_ new toys."

Joe chuckled and wheeled it over towards him, pulling out the stand so that it stood behind him.

"I guess you could say something like that."

The two man-nurses slowly guided Joker back towards the dolly and got him to step up onto it's small platform. They carefully laid him back. It felt a little awkward...

"So uh..." He said a but confused, looking around at what was going on at the moment. "What _exactly_ is happening...uh, here?"

The two began strapping him in. They came through impossibly tight like the usual belt-style, but ha-ha, were then brought around to the back where _'click!'_ They snapped into something. It was very difficult to move!

"After your little outburst yesterday with Dr Quinzel--seeing that you haven't injured her to the point of forced retirement or death and because she was still willing to come back--we've decided-" he paused, tightening the buckle around Joker's chest, "to load you here onto' Dolly."

There was one last click.

"So naw, you cant attack her!" The large man kicked in the stand, the Joker falling back into Rogers hod on a seventy-five degree slant.

Joe came around and leaned in, a smug smirk on his round face. "Much-less move..."

They began wheeling him out of the room, army of guards in toe.

Joker squirmed in his restraints, testing them. He couldn't budge at all. _Impressive._

"So if I were the Batman, I couldn't break out of this lovely little contraption?"

They pushed him out the door and Joe gave a small sigh.

"Not even he wanted to scratch his harry bat-ass."

The Joker fell into a fit of hysterical laughter. "Oh! Oh-ho! well that's a scary thought!" His voice dropped and he nodded his head in approval, "I like the way you think Joe,"

Joe grunted. "Now _that's_ a scary thought."

---

Once they had him inside his very favorite room all Dollied nicey-nice and clipped down to the floor--just incase he tried rolling away(because he would be that desperate ha-ha) everyone left.

And cue... Dr Quinzel.

She came in head held high, same determined look on her face, that sexy little skirt and of course, her trusty clipboard and pen.

Joker made a note to the sweet little cut that lined her swollen bottom lip, a nice thin scab already formed onto it. He grinned.

"Hello again love, miss me?" He pouted.

Without even the slightest glance his way, she sat down in her chair and pulled out her clipboard. She was ignoring him.

"Aww... come on Doc, don't tell me you're still angry about what happened yesterday?" he packed on the sugar, giving his best sad face.

"Of course not Mr J," She said, the clear sound of sarcasm in her voice. "Who in this world would be upset by something like that?"

Ouch. So she was still angry. Joker couldn't really see why, he had only kissed her after all... It's not like he _stabbed_ or _killed_ her or anything! He had even let her get through a second session! That alone was enough for dear ol' Doc to be happy, right?

"My kiss couldn't have been _that bad now?"_

His pout turned into a sly smirk. "What can I say, with such a _beautiful_ woman like yourself, I just couldn't help myself."

Her face suddenly lightened, and a small smile crept onto it. He could tell she was trying to hide it, but she failed terribly, bitting onto the insides of her cheeks.

_Almost there._

Now for the big finale, the big fat cherry on top of the ice cream cake... he dropped to a kind whisper and said as genuinely as he possibly could: "I'm sorry."

Doc looked up then, her eyes meeting with his and locking. she stared at him for a very long time.

He pouted again, "I really am."

She smiled, "Fine, you're forgiven."

_And one point for the Joker!_ This was easier than he thought!

"Now," she began clearing out her throat, "Time to get down to business."

She flipped a page in her notes.

"'Joker', I'm assuming, is obviously not your real name-"

"Exactly, you're assuming."

She gave him a 'Nice try' smirk then continued, "Tell me Joker, what's your really name?"

"What ever you want it to be, _doll_." Good one.

She smirked again, "Then how about Jack Napier?"

_Ooo... toucher!_

Truth be told, the Joker did know his name--it's not like he had forgotten it. It _was_ his name--past tense--_was_ his name. _'Jack'... _it never really suited him and brought back old memories which Joker had absolutely no intention of bringing into the light ever again. Why keep a name given from dirt parents you didn't even like? Any-ways, the _'Joker' _had a much better ring to it, much better.

"We received note from an unlisted contact who gave us this information. Do you agree to it?"

He laughed, "Oh! Reverse psychology is it? Trying to get me to name off some old friends--cry my heart out about how _horrible_ my childhood was?" He nodded still laughing, "Very cute,"

She rested her head against her hand and put on a serious face. "Do you always change subjects so well when you're uncomfortable?"

The Joker stopped laughing. "Well, do you always make it a point to stick your nose where it doesn't belong?"

They stared eachother down.

"You know," she started again, putting her notes away. "I've already began to make some assumptions on you."

Joker chuckled, "Oh is that so? Well assume away Doc, I wont be going anywhere!" He shook his head, smiling, "I'm all ears!"

She took a breath and folded her hands into her lap.

"You suffer a severe case of Bipolar disorder and can pass for all five separate types of Schizophrenia, although for some reason, don't specifically fit into one direct category--Which was most likely caused by--including the scars on your face-- child abuse in an unstable growing environment. That was probably your first hit to becoming crazy.

All the neighbors pets have been disappearing never to be seen again not knowing of the little 'pet cemetery' sitting in the woods behind your house... How you'd bring them out back and carve them up to your heart's desire wishing to _God_ that the lifeless, defenseless little creature in your arms was a real person and not some pathetic animal. You'd sit and stare out your bedroom window for hours ever night watching all the other families wandering around all happy and wondering _'Why couldn't my life be like that?',_ while you wait for your alcoholic father to come upstairs and give you a nice old good night beating. And then, when you're on the floor, and you're hurting, and you're bleeding... you think, _'Why me?'_

Over the years, confusion slowly turns into hate until one day you snap because you just cant take it anymore. Cant take the pain, cant take feeling so small, so defenseless and pathetic like those animals... until your satisfied. Until everyone else who's happy in this world is suffering just like you. _Just like you."_

"Are you finished?" He asked, completely unfazed. "What, is that all? Is that all ya got, Doc? All ya need to say?"

Harley threw him a smug smile and shrugged. She batted her long black eyelashes at him and leaned back into her chair, bringing her clip board with her.

"Good, because I've made some of my own assumptions Doc," he licked his lips, anger flaring his voice, "I'll tell ya _'just like me_',"

"Ya grew up in a perfect family; in a perfect house, with perfect parents, perfect friends, perfect clothes--you had _aaaall_ anyone could ever want,_ the perfect life_. You always got whatever you wanted because money was no problem, you'd always do whatever you wanted too because really, it never mattered! You were on top of the world!... But with all your shit--all your clothes and friends and money--you felt wrong... you felt as if something was missing in your _'perfect life'_. That's when you start... wondering... _'Why daddy is always bringing different girls home? And why dose mommy keep taking all those little white pills?'--_Why--everything in your life seems to be so _wrong._

Then you realize, it_ is _wrong.

So you confront your parents about it but they just shove you away telling you that _it's nothing to worry about_... that it _doesn't matter_. So you go on like nothing's wrong--like it's some bad dream that ya cant wake up from. You become_ boring_--plain because you're unhappy--unhappy that you're_ fake_.

Every smile, every laugh..._ fake_. Like your hair; it isn't really blonde, is it? Or how about those lips... what were they? A parting gift form your last fiance?--Who you probably left a very long time ago thinking that he wasn't the one for you--the one to fill that boring old space beside you... _inside_ you..." He chuckled.

"No, your a plain old nobody who's trying so very hard to be somebody--actually even worse than that, your a plain old _somebody_ who's trying to turn herself into _**somebody else**_. I can see it in your eyes Doc, the way you talk, walk--that fake accent you have--and for God's sake, when your speaking to me don't go off with that bull-shit. I can see right through your little _'facade'_..."

He paused. He shuck his head out and cocked it to the side.

"You want a little_ 'Just like me'_, Doc? Some _assumptions_? Then think about this next time you open your mouth... _At least I'm not the one who's gonna be driving home tonight in my fake car to my cold little fake apartment to watch some fake shit reality TV show that i don't even like wondering why the hell couldn't my life be like theirs. __**Why am I all alone**_."

...

The doc just sat there... like stone...

Her eyes were glazed over and glistening with ears just begging to fall down her puffy red cheeks and onto her trembling jaw.

He must have really hit home because the poor thing wasn't saying a word. If he had really wanted to make her _cry_, he could have dug the hole a lot deeper--picking and prodding until there was almost nothing left. But he didn't. He didn't want to.

The Doctor suddenly shot up out of her seat and in one step was in front of him. The Joker didn't even have time to blink.

_**SMACK!**_

The sharp pain of her hand sent jolts of shock down his face and neck as her cold fingers made contact with his battered skin.

He let out a shocked laugh, his eyes wide.

"Don't make me want you again Doc, you know how much I like it rough," he chuckled huskily.

She stepped dangerously close to, then face coming centimeters from his. Her eyes bored up into his, pure anger swimming around in her giant blue orbs.

"You don't know the first thing about me so don't you dare think you do." She spat, her real accent finally emerging.

Joker smirked.

"And by the way, you can shove that last little thought right up your ass because trust me..."

She grabbed his chin roughly, _"I'm not alone, Puddin'."_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Well really, don't' mind all my author's drables, because I'm basically using this section of each chapter as a mini diary for how absolutely deer-in-the-headlights about this couple and how complicated they are. It just me talking to myself... typing to myself....yeah...

ANY-WHOO!

This chapter was a bit to write--more near the end when they took to insulting eachother and stuff... Haha, one of those 'Bitch Please' kind of moments that I love :P

I also started shoving in the first stages of abuse and abusive relationships in there with the - I hurt you then say sorry and you come crawling back to me - kind of stage--because that's what the joker is doing to her while at the same time developing some small affection towards her, he is destroying her. He's taking this amazing woman and finding weak spots and breaking her down. that's where I got the whole "JUST LIKE ME' bit. Hm.

Well, thanks for reading!!!!


	4. Absolutely Right

**TIME FOR SOME PUDDIN'**

ABSOLUTELY RIGHT

**IV.**

Harley stopped, slightly out of breath.

After all she had said to him; all the stabbing remarks, all the quick emotional jabs that were usually saved for much later sessions... he was unfazed. Completely and utterly unaffected by her remarks. No matter what she did to that man, he still found a way to insult her while at the same time--!

Her eyes bored into his, unfaltering.

_Ugh!_ It made her so incredibly _angry!_

He was _absolutely right!_

No matter how she looked at it, no matter how she tried to turn around his words and shape them into some hidden meaning... Over and over.... _he was still right_.

That hurt. It hurt a lot.

Her lips parted, moist and burning as her eyes traveled across his face; cheeks, eye brows, eyes, nose, lips... she paused.

His chin was still in her palm, the ends of her long nails dug under his jaw. She moved one finger slightly, stroking it across the bottom of his chin.

She shivered.

His cool pale skin felt like nothing she had ever touched before. It's texture was smooth and soft, clean--yet at the same time, was hard and dry, like paper.

There was something about this man...

The silence that traveled through them was sharp, a heavy tension in the air that Harley couldn't place. He stared at her with a blank expression, eyes never moving from her's.

Slowly, she leaned in. Unsure. She stopped.

Her eyes drifted up towards Joker's again, almost as if asking his permission.

Harley's heart immediately began to beat uncontrollably.

Their lips met.

The kiss was light and tender, as if a small butterfly was dancing across her lips. His mouth moved slightly against her's.

This feeling inside of her, it was so... different. Like this wierd elation, and sadness--and this awful throbbing _thing! _She wasn't floating, the air wasn't taken out of her lungs, there was no electric shock, no blissful moment of enchantment... Just this _feeling._

_It was amazing._

Harley broke the kiss then, pulling away slowly so that their lips were still only centimeters apart. Her eyes remained closed as the last waves of ecstasy rolled over her trembling form.

"Well," The Joker said, a slight smug tone in his voice. He chuckled and leaned in, brushing his lips against her's.

Harley, took a breath in and dropped her hand lazily; defeated. It landed on his chest and she wrapped his fingers around the thick leather restraints. Her fist tightened and she bit down onto her bottom lip. No words were willing to come form her mouth. She had so much to say, but couldn't even sputter one syllable.

The only thing that seemed to want to come out of Harley's mouth were the five simple words that had been running through her head for the last ten minutes.

She clenched her jaw.

"What have you done to me?"

Suddenly, the loud buzzer of the intercom turned on and the doors of the room shook. There was a click.

Harley, jumped back, practically scared to death. She quickly regained her posture and scraped at her clipboard.

The heavy doors pulled back and in came the Joker's two nurses and about five armed guards.

Harley, a bit flustered, stumbled and bumped into the side of the table. She grabbed it and laughed nervously. She could feel her face heating up.

"What's the matter boys?" She asked as absolutely normal as possible.

Her face heated.

The fat nurse with the moustache smiled at her and went to the side of the Joker.

"Nothin' Dr. Your two hours are up."

Harley let out a small sigh of relief, her whole body relaxing.

"Oh," She smiled, "Already? How time flies!"

The Joker grunted.

Harley shot him a look.

"Well, I'll be going then..."

She tucked her clip board under her arm and gave a small awkward wave to no one in particular. She felt as if everyone in the room was staring at her.

Harley turned on her heels then strut right out of the room.

"Bye, Dr Quinzel!" A familiar voice called after her.

She stumbled and dropped her pen, but continued making her way towards the elevator with even skipping a bet. She quickened her pace.

_Fuck._

---

When Harley finally made her way to the staff room--more like rampaged into the staff room--she was furious.

Amazing how easy it is to go from being absolutely calm to feeling as if a volcano was ready to explode out of your ears.

She threw her clipboard onto the table and stormed over to the counter.

Harley threw open the cupboard doors, banging them against the walls and reached inside for the instant coffee as she slammed a mug down in front of her with her other hand. Opening the jar, she didn't even bother getting out a spoon and full-out purred the brown crystals into the mug until it was three-quarters full. Then, stomping towards the kettle, filled the mug to the top with boiling water.

The smell was so strong that it would have probably made the normal person's eyes water, but not Harley. _Oh no_. She pulled the mug up to her lips and not even waiting for the mix to completely dissolve and took a very large, very long drink.

The foul taste that enter her mouth was unexplainable as the bits of coffee grain ran down her throat along with the syrup-like black liquid.

Harley slammed the mug down onto her counter and coughed.

"What the hell was I doing!"

What the hell was right. She had _kissed _him. She let that monster get to her and get under skin and then, she even kissed him--and _liked it!--__**AGAIN!**_

There was something seriously wrong with this picture!

The Joker was _the Joker_: A crazy psychopath who fed off of chaos. How is that even_ possible?! _He blew up a fucking hospital, robbed a mob bank, tortured men, women and children, killed hundreds, destroyed the lives of countless people and she--Harleen Quinzel--was here fucking making out with the guy!

She dropped her face into her hands on the counter and let out an angered moan.

"Harley?"

She whipped around.

It was Roice. She groaned in her mind.

"Oh, Ken, hey..."

He walked towards the counter and pulled out his own mug.

"I just that the craziest day,"

_I doubt that._

"There is this new patient on our floor with this ridiculous theory that..."

His words drained and Harley completely zoned right out.

In one ear and out the other.

Now this was within her comfort zone. Here, Ken trying to pick her up, coffee in hand--normal. _Just normal_. It was so much more easy pretending.

_'You're fake...'_

_Shutup._

"So I turned to him and said, 'Hey, what are you doing?' And do you know what he said? He turned to me with this look, right, and-"

_'Your a plain old nobody who's trying so very hard to be somebody...'_

_Shutup!_

"It was hysterical!--I didn't laugh of course though--but wow! Who _dose_ that? I sometimes feel bad for these guys because what ever could have made them this crazy--well,-"

_'Actually even worse than that,'_

_Don't say it-_

_'your a plain old somebody-'_

"-I mean really, what in the world was that guy thinking?!"

_Don't-_

_'-who's trying to turn herself-'_

"So I just left him alone and--you really couldn't believe it,"

_Don't you-_

_'-into somebody el--'_

_**"Shutup!"**_

Ken stopped talking immediately and turned towards Harley with a bewildered look on his face.

"Huh?"

Harley froze realizing that she had actually said that last one out loud. She blinked.

"Um, Harley? Are you ok...?"

A familiar feeling washed over her then.

"Ken," she started, "Are you busy tonight?"

_I'll show him just how plain and boring I am._

---

Harley's apartment door crashed open as she and Roice stumbled in, mouths interlocked and kissing furiously.

Her one hand was entangled in his hair pulling him closer to her as the other scaled the wall for support. Roice was pulling off his jacket and lab coat, his moist pink lips crushing against hers. Their breath was raged, coming out in labored huffs.

Harley broke the kiss and led him into her bedroom, pushing the tall blonde onto her mattress. She kicked her heels off and sent them flying across the room and into her closet, then jumped onto the bed after him and straddeld him. Harley immediately got to work at undoing his shirt.

Tonight, the slim blonde was absolutely determined to do this and to do this _right_. It had been ages since she had had sex and she knew it. Roice was Roice--bottom line--and that was all she needed right now, someone who was willing and was sure to deliver.

"Harley," He began, out of breath, "I really like this and all, but don't you think we're moving a bit to fast--"

She silenced him, by crushing her lips back down onto his and kissing him passionately. She broke away and pulled off her jacket and shirt.

Her hands ran over his bare chest, lust and anger swarming through her. She nails dug into his stomach.

"Harley--"

She slapped him, hard.

Roice sat there for a moment, bewildered at what had just happened. He moved his sore jaw around and reached up to touch the injury.

No, no, Harley would have none of that. This was _her _game. Her turn to be in control.

She grabbed his hands and pinned them over his head, bring her face close to his, a low growl being emitted from her throat.

"I like it dirty, baby," She said and ground her hips down hard onto his. "You got a problem with that?"

She was speaking in her native accent and by the surprised look on Ken's face, she knew that this was going to be interesting after all.

Suddenly, Roice hooked his legs around her and flipped himself over so that he was now on top. He pressed himself down between her legs and she let out a moan.

He began undoing her skirt and pushed it up her waist then pulled it off. His mouth was slightly open, his eyes, clouded and filled with lust.

Harley reached up for his face and brought it back down to her's.

A sharp pain shot through her stomach but she ignored it, deepening the kiss.

What was so wrong about having sex? She'd done it many times before, what was so different this time? What was _wrong?_

Roice was now trailing kisses down her neck and chest.

_'Why is everything in your life seem to be so wrong, Harley?'_

He grabbed at her underwear and pushed her legs open.

_'You know he isn't the right one--can't fill that empty void beside you. Inside you.'_

This wasn't right.

_'You're fake.... Fake...'_

"Ken-" She began to squirm under him.

"Ken, stop-"

He brought his face back down to her's in attempt to quiet her.

Harley placed both of her hands on his chest and turned her face away form him in protest.

Roice only, moved his lips towards her neck instead, licking and bitting and prodding-

"Harley, what's wrong baby, I thought you said you liked it rough-"

"Ken, I said stop!"

She kicked him off of herself with all of her might and sent him flying off of the bed and onto the floor. He hit it with a bang and rolled right into her dresser.

Harley scrambled up in her bed so that she was sitting and pulled a blanket over to cover herself. Sweat ran down the sides of her face and she blinked, taking in a deep breath.

"What the fuck!" Ken roared, jumping off of the floor. "What the fuck Harley!"

"Get out." She said, not looking at him. She couldn't look him in the eye, not again. Not after what she had done.

Roice stood there with his shirt wide open and his pants hanging half way down his ass. His perfect blonde hair was a mess and his oh-so handsome face wrinkled and screwed up with confusion and anger.

_"What is wrong with you!?" _He roared, shaking his arms towards her. "You never except even _one_ of my dates--then all of a sudden you jump like some crazed fucking looney!" He threw his arms down and turned away from her, hands on his hips.

"I said," She started again, voice calm and stern, "Get out, Ken."

"So let me get this straight," he turned back to face her, "You drag me in here, hit me, try to fuck me, then kick me out?"

Harley said nothing.

He sighed and began doing up his pants.

Harley was about to tell him to kindly take his leave once more, but was cut off as he snatched his coat off of floor. "Don't worry, I'm leaving, and I'll show myself out."

Tears welled up in Harley's eyes as his heavy footsteps could be heard echoing down the hallway.

_What had gotten into her? _What was she even _doing? _Was this the reaction she had after seeing the Joker today? After two brief meetings with him, was this what she had already been reduced herself to? Revenge sex against a man who would barley give two cents of a fuck?!

She didn't even know anymore... In just two short days she was sent into a crazy mad sex frenzy with a man she didn't even like--she hated him. She was annoyed by him more than anything she could even imagine! This was how low she had fallen, this was how low she had brought herself to--here, in her bedroom, half naked and on the verge of tears. Again.

She bit back a cry as a tear rolled down her red cheek.

The sound of her door rushing open filled the apartment.

"Sometimes I don't even know who you are, Harley."

The door slammed.

And there it went, the first sob. The first whaling shriek.

Harley doubled over and rolled herself into a ball, wrapping the blanket around herself.

Self pity, how pathetic.

_Why am I... so alone...?_

_'Told ya so.'_

**AUTHORS NOTE:** First and foremost, thank you all so much again for the reviews! Kisses and hugs!

Now to get down to business... I wont be posting as much as I used to(3 in four days... that is a lot!) because it was March break and I had a week off soooooo, now that I'm back to school and dance, I can only post one a week if that. I'm quite the studious student and I personally don't accept anything under a 90%(:P I'm really horrible, I know) so I guess you guys will all understand when I say school comes first. Also, I'm a competitive dancer so I usually put in a good 20h a week for those classes. So please understand if my chapters come out a bit later than they used too! THANK YOU!!!

_NOTICE! :_ No chapter will be coming out this weekend because I have a dance competition!!! AHHHHHH!!! XD Woo-ti-ty-woot-woot!

WOOOOO!!! So they kiss!! Again! :P I had planned a much more violent end for this chapter, but decided that it was still to soon into the story for anything that big to happen, so I'm saving the thought and bringing it out later.

EWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!! I am not going to lie, it absolutely KILLED ME--NO JOKE--IT KIIIILLLEEEDDD ME to write up that line about the butterflies dancing on her lips--ioweyfqfpoerghwefkdlqweguile..... I haaaaatttteeeeeee butterflies, they scare the fuck out of me! Personally, if a kiss felt that , I would prolly have to vomit in the poor guys mouth then run away crying and screaming. I have Lepidopterophobia, it's the phobia of butterflies and it is not _fun_. Nothing beats the fond memory of crying your eyes out at science North after seeing a massive butterfly the size of your TV. NOT FUN.

So yeah, that's really all I have to say about that chapter. Thanks for reading!!! XD


	5. I've Got Problems

**TIME FOR SOME PUDDIN'**

I'VE GOT PROBLEMS

**V.**

It had been two days since he had had his last session with Doc Quinzel. Two whole days... two days... forty-eight hours...yup...

He sighed heavily and grunted, shaking his head.

His gaze traveled around the white room in which he was currently sitting in... Well, more like in a sitting position, while _strapped down _to a chair to be perfectly exact. This was part of his new training, _rehabilitation_: to be able to converse and fit in with others--to find the _'real' _him. His apparent identity crisis in the eyes of the most loving doctors here at Archam needed no reassuring. He, the Joker, had absolutely no problem knowing exactly who he was. He didn't need sitting in a room with about a dozen other crazies to tell him that--which, as far as the whole conversing idea went, wasn't really working aeeing as how most of the wack-jobs in here with him were too busy talking to their imaginary friends to give even two shits on what he had to say.

He frowned and slouched down into the Dolly.

This was... difficult to admit. Really, even he himself was seeing the issues in his little predicament.

After two days with his hew doctor, he waaasss--what you need to realize is that he hadn't _had_ any _decent_ conversation in the last _six months _of being here! It was natural that he--that _anyone_ would react like this. _Anyone. _Even the Batman... right? _Right! _

His frown deepened.

He'd grown attached to her.

...

NO.

That wasn't right.

He hadn't grown attached to her, she if anyone had grown attached to him. She did kiss him, twice now! There had to be some form of lovey-whoo-ha there on her part! She even came back after all. The Joker just... he just... weeeell...

He stumbled.

Ah! Yes, he found himself pleasantly contented by her presence. Yes, exactly. Contented.

"No! No I cannot!" Cried a man a good few feet away from the Joker. He was in a contraption similar to his but it was instead in the form of a wheelchair. Nurses flocked around him, trying to give him his meds.

"Now Fred-"

"Help! Help me, Lord! _Domine dilrige nos! Domine dilrige nos!_"

The Joker grunted.

Usually, Fuck-me-Jesus-Fred got a few chuckles out of him with all his _'O Lords'_, and _'Oh God's' _and_ 'Jesus save me'_, in his crazy Latin rants. But today, this only irritated him like fuck and made him want to let it all out again, like an animal.

"Would you shut him the hell up!" He screamed.

_"Piccavi! Piccavi! Pica-"_

And they got him. Out goes that burning flame.

_Ridiculous..._

You see, it were times like these which he wish she was here.

He didn't belong with this crowd, not like this any ways. Leading them, yes. Killing them, yes. Killing _with_ them, most likely. But having_ therapy _session with them? Talking to them? _Being_ one of them? The Joker was of a much higher class, he defined what _exactly_ it meant to be a criminal, to be _baaad_.

Oh yeah. Now that's what he was, and she was exactly what he needed in a place like this. She was deserving.

He growled deep in his throat, a lusty smile creeping onto his face.

The way she had stared at him with those giant blue eyes, the way she came up to him all flustered and angry. When she grabbed his chin and dug her nails into his skin... how she kissed him...

He shut his eyes, remember the kiss. He licked his lips.

_Pleasantly contented with her presence_.

---

Lunch time.

"Oh horray, time to eat."

Most if of all of the patients were gathered in the caff as the loud sounds of moans, screams and mumbled talking filled the room.

Everything was so white!

White plastic tables screwed to white plastic benches, bolted down to the white tiled floor. Four sets of white double doors lined the walls, in front of the one of them, a lovely white counter where they gave out white plastic treys and many assortments of white plastic bowls and plates. Not to mention, the white cutlery!

Why, it was _sooo_ colorful! Why would anyone_ ever _get bored in a room like_ this_?

Again, another thorn in the side in his long and fruitless day.

People were eating, talking to themselves--again--shouting, singing, drooling, acting like scoundrels... well, now this was more like his kind of crowd! Still not what he would call _ideal, _but better than nothing at all, right?

He smacked his lips together and turned his attention to the steaming plate of shit in front of him.

The food at Archam was... well it for sure wasn't a damn five star meal for starters. They always served the exact same thing for about a good month then change it up by adding a bit from each food group. You know, adding a little color here and there, trying to make it look less like the pile of crap it is.

Today his dish looked more colorful... must be the pease.

He hated pease. And he hated carrots too. He also hated chicken soup and jello. He wouldn't have minded the mashed potatoes if they hadn't put the ass flavored gravey on it but of course, all those amazing cooks back in the kitchen just jolly well had to! Especially that old chinky bitch who the Joker was absolutely sure pissed in his apple juice each day. She'd give dirty looks and would mumble her Chinese hublaa at him when ever he came into the line and made it _a point _that she was _the one _to give him his food.

It touched his heart to see that she had put sooooo much thought and love behind his meal... Made him want to mug an eight year old.

Taking his fork, he lazily poked at the meal.

This was slightly depressing.

"What Chuckles, not feelin' to hungry today?"

"Sorry Joe, not in the mood for my... uh... pattates and juice..." He sighed turning towards the man.

Joker smiled then, dropping his voice and reaching his hand over to shield his mouth, "You could always ya know... drop in a few beers and some lamb chops... have a party you and I,"

Joe laughed and slapped Joker on the back, his voice just dripping with sarcasm.

"Ahaha-ahhhhh, no."

_It was worth a try._

He went back to picking at his meal.

Suddenly, something or rather someone, caught his eye. The top of a blonde head could be seen through the tinted plexiglass observation windows, quickly moving along the length of the cafeteria. Finally, the figure stopped at the two doors, talking with a guard.

Joker had a perfect view of her from where he was sitting.

_Why, Miss Quinzel, come to see me now have you?_

He grinned devilishly and stroked back his hair, raking his fingers through the messy curls.

She continued talking... and started laughing too.

_Just giver her a minute,_

Nodding her head, she pulled out her clipboard and showed it to the guard, jotting things down and pointing out god only knows. Her back was now facing the windows. Still nothing.

_Any second now..._

She began putting away her clipboard, never a good sign... And she was beginning to turn around, away from the doors, away from the windows.

The Joker frowned, _This won't do._

He tried getting up from his seat but was pushed roughly back down into it by a nurse.

She was getting ready to leave and he knew it. Crap.

Quickly, the Joker began looking around once again, his lips pressed together. He turned then to the man beside him, some sort of jew-looking skitzo. Oh well, who was he to discriminate by race, in the end, they looked the same on the inside.

"Hey, can I borrow your fork?" He asked.

The man looked slightly stunned and froze all wierd in his seat. "But I need it to-"

"Thanks bub," The Joker cut him off and grabbed the man's hand which held the fork. He then wrapped his other hand around the back of the man's neck and with one sharp movement, thrust Ju-fro's head down onto the fork.

The man immediately bounced right back off his hand and fell back over the side of the bench. Dead.

Joker laughed, a little.

Doc turned back, a shocked look on her face as guards swamped around him once again, guns at the ready. Her giant blue eyes were staring in wide eyed... well it wasn't horror... didn't look like horror, and did he know what that looked like. No, she seemed more...

He smacked his lips together once again and folded his hands on the table in front of him, grinning from ear to ear like a little kid who had just done some very bad, but was very proud of himself because of it.

And he was.

He gazed straight at her through the windows and winked.

Doc Qin's shoulders relaxed then, and she seemed to sigh. Her eyebrows knighted together and she frowned, looking more defeated or even relieved rather than angry.

"I said get down!" A guard screamed again for about the fifth time. he hadn't been paying attention to what was going on around him.

"Huh-"

_"Fire!"_

And there went the tranquilizer darts. Ow.

**Black.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Well, here is my new chapter! Just a few notes: First off, I made a few racial jabs (Chink, Jew) I'm a chink :P haha Filipino, so that has absolutely no racist leverage behind it and as far as Jew goes, I only used the term to liven up the text Joker style :)

Around the time I put out the last chapter, I had bought the graphic novel_ Joker _by Brian Azzarello. The art first of all by Lee Bermejo was absolutely superb in ever aspect--and the story was just amazing. The comic in all was really great and made me change my views on the Joker by quite a bit because it captured Heath Ledger's version of him so beautifully and so amazingly that it really made me second guess what exactly I was doing here. Also, Harley showed up in it! Horray! Sadly, she said absolutely nothing and was barley in the book at all, but hey, she was still hot through the whole thing and the two were still together so I was happy :P:P

Any-whoo, hope you all liked this chapter! Just a bit of a cool-down before all the action begins!


	6. Laying Out The Truth

TIME FOR SOME PUDDIN'

LAYING OUT THE TRUTH

**VI.**

Two weeks. Two full weeks and she hadn't come and seen him once, not once. After practically _throwing_ himself at her like that!—No, no after wasting his time and strength on killing that asshole in the cafeteria to—to--!

He ground his teeth together.

Oh yes, this last little dilemma had really put things into prospective for him. He expected—after the incident two weeks ago—that it would mean extra fun therapy sessions, more sexy heated talks and conversations, but no. She hadn't come in fourteen whole damn days.

_What the hell was this?!_

Wasn't this place supposed to _try _to make you better, not shove you into time-out? Or just fucking ignore you! He was the Joker, he was not _ignored_, he was never _ignored_. Threatened, scolded, beaten and aggravated, maybe, but _not ignored_.

If he really wanted to get the ball rolling and get the hell out of this rotting shit pile, it was time to use some force. No more tickling around the edges or poking around the soft parts. He had only been playing with her before, but now, it was time to get down to business.

His glare softened as the large metal door opened, and watched as the slim blond walked into the room. She seemed more down today, dragging her feet in her four inch heels, hair in a thoughtless ponytail.

Well, he grimaced in spite of himself, she still was _something_ to look at. He could have just as easily used another doctor of his... but Doc was...

_Oh dammit, admit it._

Enngh, she...

He growled deep in his throat making her tense up in her seat. No, not nice. Angry... Meeean... cut deep, real deep... Don't be nice. Tell it like it is!

"What do you want from me, Doctor Quinzel?" He spat suddenly.

Her eyes shot up towards him, shocked. There were thick black bags under her eyes.

"I—Wha--?"

"What cha want with me Doc?" He asked again, "Hm?_Hmmm?_"

She straightened herself in her chair and gave a sad attempt at not fucking caring. As if.

"I believe I'm the one who should be asking the questions here, Joker." She retorted viciously writing away on her clipboard.

"Bullshit," He laughed, a high pitched howl.

She only glanced up at him and kept on writing on that damed clip board. God that pissed him off. It was cute the first time... uncertainty, stubbornness... Now it just seemed like she was being a damed coward. She just kept on scratching away at that piece of paper--

"_Look at me when I'm talking to you." _

Her head snapped up, full attention. There was fear in her eyes. That was nice.

"Why are you here, eh, Doc? _Hm?_ Why d'ya come back? All those times, why d'ya come back? You could have quit just as easily as you walked into this job, but ya just kept on crawling back to me..."

Her eyes stayed locked with his. Screw playing around, it was time to just get it over with. He had seen the second she had walked into he room the very first day they had met. Anyone who couldn't see it was as blind as old Batty-Boy, or just fucking stupid.

"You're really lucky this place doesn't have security cameras inside of all the little-" he waved his head around "-emotion sick room." His gaze turned smug, but still hard. "All those times you jumped me like some mad animal in heat. 'Cause that's what we all are isn't it Doc, animals. Or was that just supposed to be me, right?"

"You've got no idea what ya talkin' about!" She snapped ripping her gaze from his and aimed it down towards her lap. Her native accent had finally come out to play again. It rolled off her tongue like bullets flying smoothly out a gun.

"Ya don't know how hard it's been fa me—ta make somethin' outta myself! With this accent and how I had ta claw my way through University—and all this pressha! I've neva worked so hard in my life t' get somewhere-"

"Well, now that you got here Doc, why the hell are you sticking around?!"

"It was all so I could get a book! I wanted to write a book on you, alright! That's all an'-"

"A book? Like a Biography?!" Joker shrieked.

He began laughing hysterically.

"_A book?_ Who the hell are you trying to fool? You honestly think you're the first one Doc? What the hell do you think all those other poor schmucks were doing here, eh? That they all just wanted to help an _obvious _lost cause for_ 'the grater good'_?"

"I—I--" She stammered helplessly.

"Truth is I like being the way I am Doc. Brings some color into this dull world, do ch'a think? But you're smart, ummmmmm, yes," he said as a small smirk spread across his face. He shook his head as if wagging a finger at her, "You already knew that didn't you Doc? _'Just wanted to be the one to crack the Joker'_? Bull."

He could already see her snapping at her foundations. The bags under her eyes were sure of that.

"We already had this conversation, Joker." She said, her voice shaky.

"Oh no, Doc, I don't think we have. That first one was just an opening to this, what I really wanted to say that day. I'm really good at reading people Doc, seeing the true monsters inside of them for what they are. It's a talent you could say... and you," He looked her up and down, "From the first moment I saw you--"

"Enough!" She yelled shooting up from her chair.

She began to walk towards the door. Her hand grasped the door knob.

"_You're just like me."_

She froze, hand still on the knob. Good, he had her.

"You can't feel anything, can you? You stand in rooms, watching, always watching--_seeing_ it happening before your eyes but you just don't understand it. You see these people, crying, laughing... they feel pain, they feeeeel... so you put on that pretty little mask of your's and you pretend, you pretend like nothing is the matter like you've got it all under control in this sick little world you made up into your head by latching onto things, people... You never cared about any of them though, did you? No, don't deny it Doc, I know you didn't--you didn't _care_ one bit about them pr your books... you only cared about how close they brought you, how close they brought you to emotions... how they made you feel---or at least how you hoped they'd make you feel."

"No," She said shaking, "that ain't true."

"Let me guess, never like people all too much? Screw what I said before, you had a fucked up childhood. Fucked. Parents, friends, whoever---it was all fucked from the start. All that shit about '_being me'_, and _'what's wrong with me'_, and _'I hate me'_—me, me, me, me, me—" he paused, smacking his lips together, "Just shut the fuck up. '_It's nothing'--_you thought that you could push it all away, that you could hide _it _but you can't anymore, can you Doc--"

"No--" She said shaking her head now.

"--you can hide from your demons.... the little voices in your head, talking to you... whispering to you... you can hear them, I know you can, I know-

"Please stop," She begged.

"Do you--do you know why I picked you, Doctor Quinzel? _Why _I picked you... Because we're the same.... we're possessed by the same monster you and me, the same need, the dame urge... that's why I like you so much... that's why I want you... that's why you were so drawn to me, to ME!"

He rolled his eyes, "Three sessions in and you've already failed. Yes, and early wake up call I know, but putting if off would be like ripping the scab off of a wound so it's doesn't heal,"

He grinned and leaned as far forward as he could in the Dolly, "Face it, hun because I know I have," He dropped his voice to a truthful and simple voice, "We were made for each other baby doll."

She stood there, ridged like a brick wall.

_Triumph!_

She opened the door and coolly walked out.

Hook, line and sinker.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I originally had something else planned for this chapter, but like the Joker so plainly stated, why bother drawing out the inevitable? I don't know... I thought about it and I had all these other therapy sessions planned, but it would really just be a waste because they all lead to the same thing in the end and I didn't want my story to roll out like that. It could have easily been stretched out between another 4 chapters but no, this won't been a 20 piece fic :P The next few chapters which I have all set up should get quite interesting!


	7. Hello Friend

TIME FOR SOME PUDDIN'

HELLO FRIEND

**VII.**

After the short—yet very productive—meeting with Doc, Joe came into the room _all smiles_ as usual. Behind him, Roger-boy trailed along, eyes down at the floor. With him, he had a new and fun looking device. Well, not entirely new. The Joker had seen them around Arkam, just had never been strapped to one yet. New day, new toys!

"Top of the morning to you, Joe!" He said with a smug smile.

The fat man grunted.

The Joker then lowered his head, a devilish grin creeping on his face. He licked his lips. "Hello Roger, miss me?"

He could see the man shutter under his gaze. It was really too fun playing with him!

"And what are you so happy about today?" Joe asked quizzically, arching a thick brow up at the Joker.

The Joker shrugged... or as much as he could in the Dolly. "Don't know my fat friend, just a 'happy' day is all."

Jeo grunted. "Well good, 'cause you're off to group therapy."

"What?" The Joker was slightly confused, "But I thought that was on Tuesdays, old boy."

Joe chuckled, the hairs of his 'stache rustling from his breath. He walked around to the back of the Dolly and kicked in the stand.

"'Rogie', can I call you that Roger? Or maybe _'Roge'_?" The young man's face twitched violently. He was trying to smile! Haha! "Like it?!"

Joe laid Joker down onto the floor and with much effort knelt down beside him. He began unstrapping the thick leather buckles.

"Well, isn't this a compromising position."

"Funny,"

He waved his sausage fingers at Roge and he brought over his new mode of transportation. It was a padded metal wheelchair covered in buckles ans straps. It looked all shiny and new.

"Oo! Now I get a comfy chair! What's this, Joe? A reward for my good behavior?" Joke asked, eyes large like a small puppy's.

"_Good_ behavior?" Joe said, him and Roge hauling the Joker into the chair.

One by one they strapped each buckle. One across the shoulders and chest, one across his abdomen and one across his ankles, strapping them to the wheelchair. It was damn tight.

Once they finished and check if each was secure enough—hah--Joe took his place beside him. Roge took the back.

"I was jus' getting' damn tired hauling your nasty white ass around."

The Joker laughed all the way to his next session.

Well, wasn't this cozy.

Apparently, a new load of loonies was dumped into Arkam the other day and—needing to make more room for them—they bumped Joker into Tuesday sessions with the fourth floor's right wing. God... this was possibly worse than his old lot.

There were about twenty people in the room... if you could even call them that, hah!

This was low.. and the day had been going so well!

"Oh look, if it isn't his majesty,_ The Joker_." A voice came from behind him. It positively _dripped_ with sarcasm.

Another chair like his parked itself beside him by a rather busty male(why were they always guys? _Ugly, fat_ guys?!)nurse.

Joker turned, curious.

"And who are you supposed to be?" He asked.

Beside him sat a slim man, pale as heck, with creepy blue eyes and greasy black hair. He had a look of distaste on his face along with a nasty scowl.

"Jonathan Crane, you stupid dimwit."

_Ahhh,_ the Joker thought finally realizing who the man was.

"Oh yeah, scarecrow boy... didn't recognize you without the potato bag."

He shot him a nasty look.

"Funny," He began pursing his lips into a mock grin, "I had almost not recognized you without you're mommy's makeup." He grinned, "Oh, and you've got a little something.. on your face... just thought I should tell you."

So he wants to play it that way, eh?

"Want to know how I got them, my _scars_."

Mr. Sarcasm looked at him for a good minute and look away.

"No thank you, I just ate."

The Joker licked his teeth and clicked his long tongue against his lips.

This was interesting, he had never met another one of his fellow Bat droppings. Unlike the dozens of shits the Bat often picked up, there were a very small few good enough to call themselves _true_ rivals of the Batman. A _very few_. That being him—and other. That 'other' being Crane, Razul Ghoul? Rugul Fool? Ruzzie Rumples?--what ever his name was! His few small time/big crime friends, Crock, Edward and Cobblepot. Then there was Dent, but he was never a _real_ adversary, just a twisted mind awaiting a good ol' push of the deep end!

"So you almost took out the Bat I hear, before I came." Joker grinned. "Used up some of you're funky 'Instant Crazy in a Can' spray on Gotham... got things riled up!"

Crane grunted. "It is called Fear Serum, you idiot."

"Yeah, right up to the point where Batty boy had kicked your ass up to Kingdom come--"

"It was the perfect plan, and was also executed as equally close to perfection." Crane snapped, turning his head violently towards Joker. His face was twisted into a horrible snarl. He looked positively insane. "It would have worked—it was going to work! But then that fucking--"

"Batman." Joker finished for him. "It was the Batman."

Crane looked away again.

"Always ruining our fun, always being the party pooper..."

Crane sighed and snorted, flicking his head to move a strand of hair from his face.

"Well from what I had heard, his party crashing days are going to be put to a stop for the next long while."

Joker's grin had suddenly fallen. _'Put to a stop'_? Pardon? The Batman? Knocked down? Who? When? How? And why the hell wasn't it the Joker!

Crane saw the look on the Joker's face and cocked a brow. "You hadn't heard?" he asked.

"If it's any news worth hearing, in this place, not likely."

Crane's face grew serious, his smug appearance vanishing.

"Bane broke the Bat. Snapped him in half like a twig."

_Bane?_ Bane _who?_ Why hadn't the Joker heard of this!

"Who?" he asked.

"Some prison reject from Santa Prisca. No one knows much about him, but from what I had heard, he almost succeeded in killing the Batman for good. Like I said, he snapped him in half --like a twig and broke Bat's back."

The Joker shivered wit rage. "But hes' still alive, tell me the bat is still alive,"

Crane rolled his eyes at him and sighed, "Well of course, how else do you think Bane who have gotten here into Arkam? _Magic?_"

"He's here in Arkam?"

Crane sighed again but more loudly. "Well of course! Where else do you think they would put him? Arkam Asylum is only another name for State Prison. The only difference here is that they're _allowed_ to strap us up."

Well this was unexpected. And not to mention _unwanted_. No one was allowed to touch batman, _NO ONE!_ Only the Joker had that special privilege, only he and no one else! Not one single person! Who the hell did this _Bane_ asshole think he was, hm? Walking up into Joker's city and just... doing that! The Batman was never to be touched and absolutely never to be _killed_! He was _his_!

"So he would be on the fifth floor, my floor, maximum security."

Crane laughed, "Don't flatter yourself," he sneered. "Bane is a much higher class criminal, even higher than you—as you seen to believe. They most likely have him stored in some type of underground bunker, or a a solid steal shell suspended thousands of feet into the air—I have no idea. All I know is that he's accomplished much more than any of us could have ever done alone."

The Joker ground his teeth together and sunk down into his wheelchair.

This needed a large amount of thought and meditation. _Bane_, eh? Thinks he can walk all over the Joker?

No.

He would see... After all, Joker already had the ball rolling. He only needed to wait a few more weeks. Now that he had gotten a hold of Crane, this 'Bane' was nothing but another piece to the puzzle. Oh yes. This was going to be good.

A sinister grin creped up onto his face. He began to laugh like a wild hyena.

It was gonna be great.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** the plot slowly begins to unfold... I knew form the start I wanted to use Bane. I just love/hate him! The Joker, my super villain hero, is just absolutely amazing! But Bane? Hell, he played Pickup Sticks with the left over pieces of Batman's poor ass! I also wanted to bring Crane in because I love Cillian Murphy :]]]]]]]] 33 and obviously for other reasons, but you'll all just have to see now won't you?? Hope you all enjoyed his chapter!


	8. Stisfaction

**TIME FOR SOME PUDDIN'**

SATISFACTION

**VIII.**

"_We were made for each other baby doll."_

That was it.

Harley had never run so fast and so hard in her life. She sped down the hall and slammed against the wall of the elevator as the doors closed behind her.

Her heart was beating like a drum in her chest. Sweat ran down her face. She dropped her clipboard and gripped a hand on her chest. Her nails dug into her palm through the thin material of her white blouse.

_What was that?_ What the _hell _had happened in there? It had taken every single last shred of courage she possessed in her body to even walk into that room today—to just sit across from him. She was in physical pain at the thought of seeing him. It was_ torture_! But more than anything, more than torture, more than humiliation and shame, there was fear. Raw, naked, gnawing fear. He terrified her, oh god how he terrified her. Looking into those steely eyes was like looking at your own death in the face. They were black holes burning down into her core each time he laid them upon her---leaving a scorching trail of open wounds blistering and bubbling until she felt as if she would drown in her own miserable defeat.

She was so sacred.

After that night with Roice, Harley just couldn't seem to take it anymore, any of it. She could feel her nerves practically trying to rip themselves from her body. She could feel the air being sucked from her lungs, her mind screaming at her and tearing her apart for the inside out until--

The elevator door opened. She had been so consumed in her thoughts that she almost screamed at the sound of the soft bell warning her that she had reached her floor.

Two pairs of eyes stared at her.

Harley stood there for a moment starring back at the speechless doctors before her in wide eyed bewilderment. She slowly bent down to pick up her clip board.

She laughed nervously. "Darn things," She said voice shaky and uncertain, "you think that with all the money this hospital is funded with, they'd have half the brains to buy decent elevators."

She stepped out into the hall, the other doctors nodding in agreement and laughing.

"_You don't fool us Doc,"_

Harley froze. Eyes wide with horror, she turned slowly towards the two men in the elevator.

"W-What did you...?" she stammered.

Their faces began to sag and contort, chunks of skin melting off muscle and bone and limply oozing onto their chests. Their eyes seemed to be pulled deep into the backs of their head, black rings leaching out of their sockets as their cheeks ripped, mouths stretching into ghastly yellow smiles.

"_I can see it in your eyes Doc,"_ one said, voice laced with acid,_ "the way you talk, walk--that fake accent you have--"_

The other chimed in--_"and for God's sake, when your speaking to me don't go off with that bull-shit. I can see right through your little 'facade'--"_

The doors shut.

She slashed down the hallway. The sound of her heels rang out like gunshots with each sharp stride. She felt herself gaining speed, the clicking quickening and her arms began pumping in rhythm beside her. She couldn't think. She couldn't think.

Ahead of her, Joan emerged from the staff room, her mug in hand. She turned, spotting Harley coming down the hallway. She began to smile, a greeting dancing upon her lips, but faltered, her words being sucked back into her mouth.

"Dr. Quinzel, are you alri-" She barley had time to finished her sentence.

Harley's right shoulder smashed into the robust woman. Joan's coffee went flying across the hall, scolding brown liquid spilling over the both of them. Harley stumbled forward, whipping around violently, a horrified look on her face.

"Good grief! Harleen, what on earth-"

"I'm so sorry, I have to get out of here," The words shot out of her mouth before she could stop them. "I need to go, I have something," she stammered, "I forgot it, I just—I have to go, now, I have to go..."

She whipped around again and kept walking.

"Harleen!" Joan called out behind her, but it didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.

On her way out of the building, she stopped for no one. Harley didn't even bother to go and fetch her things from her locker. She already had her car keys in her pocket and that was all she needed. As she passed the desk, she only said in one a sharp, low tone that she was done for the night and moved as fast as possible out security check.

When she got to her car, Harley was forced to brace her hand. It was shaking so violently that she left scores of scratches on the door.

"Fucking..."

It slid in. Within seconds she was inside her car ripping at her coat and at her hair and at her shirt. Her heart was hammering in her ears. It felt as if it were about to leap forth from her throat.

_I can't breath, oh Jesus I can't breath,_

Unsteady, she gripped the steering wheel and forced herself to take long deep breaths. Her throat was dry and burned as she took in the warm air of her car after it had been cooking nicely out in the sun all day. She just couldn't get a grip on herself. Her nerves were frayed, her senses shot, mind everywhere. God dammit, she couldn't even bring herself to formulate an entire sentence in her mind. What was happening to her?

"Oh Jesus," It came as more of a begging plea, her voice hoarse.

Harley slowly pulled her car onto the side of the road in front of her apartment.

Very slowly.

In her current state, she knew the last thing she needed was to get into a car accident. She barley passed sixty the entire ride home. As sorely alluring as the thought of dying right now was, she knew suicided was not the answer. Obviously. Harley was only tired, she concluded. It had been days since she had gotten a good nights rest and the Joker _was_ a particularly hard subject to deal with. That was all, that was all it was.

Okay. Yes, that's right. After a long hot bath and a Tylenol infused sleep, she'd wake up in the morning feeling just peachy. Lovely.

Harley let out a long sigh as she stepped out of her car and shut the door. The steady click of her heels echoed out into her quiet neighborhood as she made her way towards the side entrance of the building. There wasn't a chance in hell she was going to stroll in thought the front entrance looking the way she did at the moment. As troubled as she was, she still held her vanity high. She may have lost all her self respect and dignity, but god dammit, she wasn't going to look like shit doing it.

As she was about to unlock the door, a hand gripped her shoulder from behind. Harley went ridged. She was spun around and came face to face with a heavy, bearded man.

"Hey Miz," He slurred. His face came so close to hers that she could smell the thick stench of Vodka leaching out of his mouth. "Ya got a few bucks on ya I could borrow?"

Harley was so terrified she could barley speak. He stumbled, pushing her hard up against the door.

"N-no, I don't have..." She stammered and clutched at the keys in her hand so hard she could feel their teeth dig into her skin.

He brought his hand in front of her face and shook it violently, palm up. "Come on, jus' spare me a couple a bucks. All you rich folks gotta have money on yous..."

She began to open her mouth but abruptly clamped it shut, the feel of his clammy fat hand sliding up the side of one of her thighs. The man let out what sounded like a groan and pressed up hard against her small frame. His hands circled around and found her behind, gripping it fiercely. Harley whimpered.

"Please," She tried, "Stop—Please, just-"

His greasy mouth crashed down onto hers so hard, they knocked teeth. A harsh wave of nausea hit her. She felt as if she was going to vomit. The taste of liquor, sweat, God only knew what else... What sense she had left in her willed her to scream in his mouth and whip her head away, thrashing. He slammed her once again up against the door yet with so much force, she rapped her head and blacked out for less than a second.

_Oh Jesus, this is it,_ she thought body going limp, _I'm going to get raped and then I'm going to die_

Where was Batman? Where was the caped vigilante now? Who was going to save her? No one. She was alone. She was so alone.

At that precise moment, something clicked in her mind and for the first time in her life, Harleen Quinzel understood. She saw and she understood.

A sudden rush of adrenalin electrocuted through her system like a shot of lightening. She could feel her hands balling into tight fists, her body turning completely into a hard wall of stone. Her vision blurred as it rimmed in red, all the blood in her body rushing straight to her head like a cannon.

"I said get the fuck off of me!" She screamed, thrusting the man back with such force he fell onto his behind.

Harley's mind went completely blank and she lost control of herself. Her body acted on his own. She felt her hand reaching out and then began making her way towards the drunken man.

He hadn't even had the time to come up when with a sharp and loud crack, a heavy metal pole connected straight into the side of his face. It sent him sprawling back onto the concrete ground, blood spurting form his mouth and forehead.

"Ya think ya can just take advantage of me like that, huh?" Her voice was sheer venom coated in ice.

Again another loud crack.

"Ya can just fuck a poor, little, innocent, defenseless woman, eh?"

And another and another.

The veins on her Harley's thin arms bulged. There was nothing now. Nothing. Only here, only her. Only him. And this...

With another abrupt swing, she sent another blow flying to his head. It flipped him onto his back and a fountain of red gore spilled from his mouth.

"Were ya gonna fuck me right here?" She sent the end of the pole rocketing into his gut and he cried out in pain. "Push me up against the door and stick ya sorry excuse of a penis up inta me?" She kicked him where it count and he shriveled into a ball.

"N-no..." He tried to say, but Harley was already too far gone to hear his pleas now. She was deaf and oblivious to everything around her. What ever restrain she had, what ever cage that was holding back the beast inside of her exploded out around her now like an endless volcano and she was done. She'd fallen over the edge and plunged deep down into the black.

Harley loomed above the man and slammed a foot onto his shoulder. He flipped onto his back once again. She dug the heel of her shoe into his chest.

"People always fuckin' pushin' me around and tellin' me what to do." She hit him. "Twenty nine years off takin' other people's shit—pretendin' ta the perfect little fuckin' girl--" She hit. "All those shitty dinner parties and snotty private schools, havin' ta go ta the gym three times a week and fuckin' starvin' myself so I could stay thin."

Blow by blow, her heart beat quickened and her voice raised until it was nothing a but a shrill scream. "All those damn teachers thinkin' they could screw me, and the ass hole boyfriends tellin' me that I-" with each word she let the iron bar fall-- "_wasn't---good---enough_!"

She stopped and stared down at his battered form, and into his horrified face. But now, as hard as she stared, as hard as she looked, she couldn't see the fat drunken man who had tried to rape her anymore. She saw no beard, no thick blue jacket over dirty, worn jeans. She saw a pair of long slim legs under a perfect white suit. She saw golden curls spilling around a creamy, doll-like, angelic face. She saw years of pain and suppressed agony that had all been boiled down into the perfect person she tried so desperately to be. She was staring into her own icy blue eyes.

With one last heart wrenching cry, she swung the iron rod and fell to her knees, melting away into the black.

Harley didn't know how long she sat there, staring at the body of the dead man before her.

Her white shirt was splattered with blood, a few stray droplets streaking across her face and legs. Her hair was a tangled mass around her face and shoulders, which raised with each deep breath she took.

Slowly, she sat back onto her heels. She brought her hands up and eyed them.

What had she _done_? She _killed_ a man. She just couldn't believe it. Harley, she... she killed a man. A drunken defenseless man, and she brutally beat him to death with a pole. She didn't even know where she had gotten the thing! One minute she was up against the door and the next... she shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself and curled over to place her face into her thighs.

Then it came out. A bubbly, merry, gurgle of a laugh. Harley's stomach tied up in knots and she just could help herself, she just began to laugh. Hysterically so.

Oh hell, yes, she _had_ killed a man and mmm...

A absolute shudder of pleasure and lust rippled through her body and she threw her head back in ecstasy. She let out a deep throaty moan and shut her eyes, basking in the delicious feeling.

Oh how she loved it.


End file.
